The Protege
by Kaoru424
Summary: Candie Hammond remembers the little boy that used to be her chocolatier father's favorite pupil. After all these years, she wonders if that "little boy" remembers her...
1. Chapter 1 The Boy

**A/N: This is actually a re-draft of an old story of mine. Posted finally after much deliberation. Enjoy!**

* * *

_He was a strange boy. A strange boy indeed._

_But she couldn't leave him alone like that._

_"Weirdo! Freak!" They kept pushing him, those two bullies. She watched as the strange yet fascinating metal structure attached to the boy's head kept clanging and banging between the bullies' fists and his head._

_"S-Stop it..." she heard him cry. The metal moved with his mouth; it looked painful._

_One of the mean boys suddenly jabbed the boy in the jaw. Everyone stared and stared at the strange little boy crying and wincing and falling to the ground with a thud! All the children around her had their eyes glued on the entire scene, with their feet equally glued to the floor. The girl started to panic; where were the teachers that made everything right again? She needed to do something._

_"_Hey!_"_

_The bullies ceased their merciless attacks on the fallen boy when they saw the girl running to them. She started swatting at one of them, the one that still had his fist around the boy's collar._

_"Ah--ow!" He squirmed, bug-eyed and taken by surprise. Both of them became nearly petrified at the shower of slaps from this crazy little girl._

_"Leave - him - _alone_!" her innocent voice roared at them._

_The next thing she remembered, the mean bullies were bolting away from her in terror._

_She almost forgot: she was just as strange._

_The girl caught a glimpse of her reflection in a puddle by her Mary Jane shoes. Her hair was a brown, nebulous form around her head. The cobalt marbles of her eyes stood out the most in her square shaped face, and she wore a red dress that her papa gave her. (Of course, she didn't call him "Papa" - only Headmaster. A dress that _Headmaster _gave her.)_

_"Th-Thank you," a mousy voice spoke._

_The girl turned to see the boy she'd been helping all along._

_The metal bars and wires and screws were even more interesting up close. His mouth, full of even more metal, was a funny rectangular shape because of the hooks pulling at his cheeks. There was some dirt on his lightly sunkissed face from falling on the ground, and his dark hair was mussed up a bit. But most of all, his eyes were as purple and as sweet as grapes._

_"You're not strange," the girl said._

_The boy's eyes became dark and blank with an emotion she had never seen before. She suddenly became aware of how much bigger this boy was when he stood; and, mouth agape, she looked up at him._

_He laughed. Laughed, laughed, and laughed. He even bent over and rest his hand on his knees, still laughing._

_The girl frowned. "What's so funny?"_

_"What's your name?" he asked, his eyes now the only things laughing._

_The girl straightened up and balled her hands into fists, raised her chin proudly and said -_

_"Candie!"_

_"Candie..." the boy repeated with a slight snicker. "Candie...you're really weird."_


	2. Chapter 2 Tuesday

**A/N:** Sorry for seeming nonexistent in the last chapter. Really, the first chapter was more of a prologue than a chapter. This story is actually a "re-draft" of an original story I used to have on here (just so possible unidentified flying accusations and "zomg's" can be avoided). Hope you enjoyed the first chapter/prologue! Now enjoy your condensed Tuesday afternoon...

* * *

This is Candie Hammond - the girl who saved the boy.

And now....the woman sleeping on the counter next to the cash register.

She still had cobalt eyes (which were closed at the moment), but her hair was now a waterfall of brunette waves falling down beside her cheeks, down to about her shoulders. Of course, her hair now, as she continued to sleep with her cheek comfortably pressed against the countertop, was a terrible mess that hid her snoozing face.

And _that _was (at least) the seven-billionth time Candie dreamt that dream.

_"Candie....you're really weird."_

She exhaled and blew away a lock of her hair from her face.

"Will...iam?" she uttered.

_"Candie. You really are weird."_

Through the window she inadvertently created, a luscious scent entered her nose and made her stir. It was the sweet, familiar aroma that, she believed, the whole world knew - thanks to a certain man... It still smelled a bit bitter, maybe with less milk in the mixture, but it was unmistakable. It was the one thing that drove the globe crazy not too long ago: _chocolate._

She continued to sniff it, smell it, inhale it. Love it. Candie started to follow her nose ever so slowly, now half-awake. It was almost as if the chocolate was pulling her forward.

"_Candie..."_

His voice was starting to morph - it sounded so real. Candie felt like she was getting closer to him; being the man that he was now, he must smell like chocolate everyday.

"CANDIE!"

"_I'mnotweirdI'mnotweirdI'mnot - !_ " Candie catapulted into the air and froze.

She also had a tendency for sleeping on the job. Only on Tuesdays, though.

And for every sleepy Tuesday, Candie's co-worker/virtual boss Lara would pull some kind of trick to keep her on her toes. Today, Lara held an opened bar of dark chocolate in her hand and a condescending smile on her face.

"Candie, your bed is only a staircase away," Lara said. "If you're that tired, why don't you go back up?"

Candie sighed and rested her elbow on the counter. "I hate it when you do that," she mumbled. Her eyes drooped, but she looked Lara from head to toe; her blonde fellow worker had short, flippy hair that looked like gravity-defying wisps of flame. Not to mention, her natural curves made their uniform apron into some kind of fashion statement.

Lara's smile went away and she bit off a good chunk of the chocolate bar. She continued to chew obnoxiously in front of Candie and to stare with her green eyes.

"You're _surrounded_ by chocolate," she squinted her eyes. "I'm surprised only one candy bar woke you up when there's a whole wall full of them right in front of you."

Indeed they were surrounded by chocolate, and all the candy and sweets they could fit in one room. Candie and Lara worked in a candy shop on Cherry Street called _Cherry on Top_. As much as it was successful recently – beating out Sluggworth and others known for "edible espionage" during the ticket craze – Tuesdays were always slow.

Candie yawned and stretched in the small stool she was sitting on. "Would you rather have me sleeping in one spot or stumble everywhere and knock down all the chocolate shelves in a sad attempt to wake up?" she asked and grinned.

Lara blinked. She rolled her eyes and starting walking away. "That's why you're at the register, Candie. That's why…"

Candie smiled.

"I'm gonna go help Garrett in the back," Lara said with her back facing Candie. "Ty can keep you company."

Ty - or as Lara had "accidentally" slipped out, the Rainbow Man - waved to Candie from mentioned wall of chocolate. If the chocolate hadn't woken her up, Ty's florescent pink shirt and bright red glasses would have.

Candie smiled politely and said hi back. She sighed. It was just her, Lara, Garrett and Ty today. On most days, the female-to-male ratio would be imbalanced; but Emilie was sick, and Teresa and Katie were out of town.

"_Tuesday…_" Ty started singing to himself in his falsetto voice. "…a_fternoon…_"

Checking the clock on the wall would be like watching an hourglass filled with maple syrup. Candie heaved another sigh and tried to look on the bright side of Tuesday. In fact, she didn't need to look far at all.

Above the register and right under the clock was the bulletin board. Anyone, customer or employee, could use it for free advertising or "temporary memory holdage" (penned by the creative Garrett). Business cards and Polaroids were pinned and stapled to that board. Candie scanned the entire surface until she finally found what she was looking for, half hidden by an ad for a lost dog.

Eagerly, she took out the pin and held the snapshot between her fingers. Why she didn't keep this photo in her small apartment upstairs, she didn't know. Maybe it was because it always reminded her of her purpose. Her mission. Her passion. But mostly, it was a small window into better, sweeter times.

_He had just gotten his braces off. The sky was as bright as his new set of straight teeth. He was the happiest boy in the academy. He ran down the green grass blowing in the wind and spun her around, simply giddy. Headmaster took out his nifty "insta-camera" (as the boy tried to explain to her) and _snap!_ The camera spewed out his delighted moment seconds later._

_**Ring-ring!**_

The door opened and the customer bell jingled. Candie quickly pinned the photo back and resumed her post.

"Hi, welcome to Cherry on Top!" Ty sung from the top of a ladder.

Candie put on her best hello-grin, but it nearly withered away when she saw the look on the customer's face. "Someone's not a happy camper," she thought to herself.

A tall, lanky kid ambled into the stop and looked at Ty like he just came from the planet Venus. He wore a black shirt with a spray-painted red skull on the front and a semi-permanent scowl on his face. He kept his hands in his jean pockets and switched his gaze to Candie. Candie jumped a little, but kept her cool. He was just a boy. An incredibly lofty, lean boy. Candie smiled again once he got in arm's length of her; the scowl on his face vanished.

Another reason why she was left with register: to Candie, a customer was a person. To Lara, a customer was money. And nothing else.

"What can I get for you, sir?" Candie looked him in the eye. His dark eyes were a little red…maybe from staring at a screen for too long or enduring allergies.

He now seemed relaxed when he said, "Two vanilla waffle cones, please."

Candie skipped on over to the ice cream bar to her right. Next to the ice cream was the separate chamber for chocolate-covered anythings and everythings. Strawberries, oranges, broccoli… Candie took one look at the array of ice cream and saw the empty container where the vanilla was supposed to be.

"I'm sorry, we're fresh out," Candie frowned.

The kid shrugged. "Whatever. I can wait."

Candie held out her index finger and poked her head in the kitchen a few steps away. "Lara!"

"Doing it," Lara shouted, as if she heard her thoughts, "five or ten more minutes."

Candie turned back to her customer and gave him thumbs up. The boy remained apathetic. She sighed once again (boy, was she full of sighs that day); maybe her Tuesday mood was contagious. Maybe she was just thinking too much – so much, she stumbled right back into her rolling stool and rolled right into the bulletin board. Gracefully - naturally.

"I'm not weird, _sir_," the young customer spat, "I just have better taste buds than you. I don't like candy." He paused. "I _hate_ chocolate."

"Well, kid," Ty got defensive, "why are you in a candy store?"

"Because I like the ice cream – duh!" he retorted. "That ice cream –" he pointed at the empty container behind the glass, "- is probably better than that idiot's twenty blocks away."

Candie's brows shot up. "That _idiot's_?"

"Yeah, lady," the kid said a little too bitterly.

"She has a name, kid," Ty hissed with a certain flair that only belonged to him and his colorful personality.

The boy glared at him. "So do I!"

Candie glanced down at the counter, as if the answer to the "idiot's" identity was hidden in the purple paint of the smooth countertop. She already knew the answer, though, unfortunately. The heat building up inside was becoming too much for her; she thought her brain would melt like the chocolate on the wall if she heard any more of this bickering.

"What's your name?" Candie asked cautiously. She added her Candie-sweet smile for good measure.

"Mike," he replied.

"Mike…" Wheels started turning in Candie's head. There were only so many Mikes, Mikeys, and/or Michaels that she'd heard of in their small town.

Mike frowned and folded his arms over the red skull on his shirt. "I'm gonna be late. Can I just get another flavor?" He looked down, exasperated, at his black Converses and muttered, "I'm such a retard…"

Candie, in the end, gave two mint waffle cones to Mike ("On the house," she patted him on the shoulder). She could have sworn one of the scoops started to melt when his cheeks became nearly as pink as Ty's shirt. Lara surely would have a fit, but Candie didn't care.

That _idiot_ was a _genius_.

He was her friend.... _Was. _

That was long, long ago. She was at least five years old when she "saved" the big kid with the braces. Candie counted the years that flew by, as did any chances of a possible "reunion."

"_Why hello, what's-your-name-again! What have _I _been up to for the past twenty-some-odd years? Running a worldwide candy corporation and making a name for myself in the chocolatiering industry, of course! How 'bout you?_"

The embarrassment! Heaven forbid (Candie grimaced) the awkward pauses! Their (past) connection was awkward enough.

The girl looked at the old snapshot once more. Lately, that nighttime memory had been more than a recurring dream. She saw the metal deathtrap of his braces practically every time she closed her eyes.

And yet he was more of a side role than a main actor in the drama of her life.

"Ohmigosh, look at that kid," Ty gawked at the scene behind the glass door.

Lara let the finished-too-late vanilla jug drop from her petrified fingers. "An elevator - _here_?"

_Voosh!!!_

"There it goes!" Ty's jaw dropped downward and his head tilted upward.

Candie was left to wonder: "_What are you up to _now_, Mr. Wonka?_"

* * *

**A/N:** R & R, si vous plait? ^_^


	3. Chapter 3 Finder's Keepers

**A/N:** Delayed, yes, but I'm currently working on like 4 different stories (2 on here so far, and 2 on another site), so I'm sorry in advanced for delays. The chapter's also a little short because I was suffering major writer's block while working on this and the NCIS story. Grr. But, I really like how this chapter came out, even though it's a bit shorter than the last. Enjoy~! (--Annie)

* * *

It was well into March, and it was still snowing.

Candie slipped into her purple coat, red gloves, and fiery fuzzy earmuffs. She set her sights on sushi from the supermarket for her lunch break. Having lunch outside the shop was necessary; even if she went up her two flights of stairs to get to her apartment above the candy store, she would probably still hear Lara's pompous voice bouncing off the walls. That part irked her.

After Mike left on the "flying elevator" (said Ty), Lara wouldn't stop yapping about how much better "they" were at making ice cream than "that idiot" was. Candie let out a frustrated cloud into the chilly air. That was just one customer; there were millions that loved the man, his ice cream, and plenty more besides. It took very little to make Lara's head even bigger than -

"_Oof!_" Candie tripped on the snowy sidewalk and caught herself inches before she fell flat on her face. She shook her gloved hands of stray ice and assessed the damage. Her knees were wet, her shoes, scuffed. . .

. . .and a wrinkly dollar bill lay buried in the snow.

Candie looked left, right, and behind her. No one seemed to have any open pockets dispensing cash inadvertently or seemed to have cared for a single dollar bill lying on the ground. The bill appeared old anyway; it must have been lying there forever.

"Today must be your lucky day!"

Candie gasped and looked up.

He had the whitest set of teeth she'd ever seen. She wished she was wearing the Jackie-O sunglasses on his face - his teeth were so dazzling. All of his brownish hair was tucked inside his black fedora, while he reclined against the wall of the supermarket and sat on the ground like he owned the place. He wore a black trench coat - black everything, except for his gloves. They were a bright violet.

Why she didn't notice him at first, she'd never know.

"Oh, uh, gosh," Candie laughed nervously and back away from the money and the man. "Maybe not today."

The blinding smile disappeared and was replaced by an S-shaped frown of confusion. "Why not?" he seemed truly disappointed. "_I'm_ not going to take it. It's _yours_. Finder's keepers." He bent forward, a wily grin on his face now. "Just reach out -" His gloved hand reached for the air in front of him. "- and take it! There's nothing wrong with that."

Candie bit her lip. Was this shady guy trying to pull something? She imagined the possibilities if she _didn't_ reach out and take the seemingly innocuous dollar.

"Come on," he insisted. "I'm gonna take it if you're not..."

"Okay, okay, Iemme just - " Candie crouched down and extracted the bill from the snow. "Viola."

The mystery man clapped his purple hands.

"I should get going now." She started tucking the dollar into her coat pocket.

"I'll see you around..." He waved in a way that all of his fingers made a wave in his wave. It was quite a sight.

Candie took one more step -

"WHOA-OH!!" The girl stumbled over nothing this time. In the split second she could think, she thought she'd finally land on her face like she was supposed to.

Instead, she fell straight into the arms of a stranger. Blinking profusely, Candie regained her composure to see her savior's face....or teeth. The sparkling set gleamed back at her while the man continued to hold her in a tango-dip-like position.

_Who _is _this guy?_

A flash of green caught Candie's attention. "Hey, the doll - !"

Already two steps ahead of her, he caught the bill, descending like a feather, between his purple fingers.

"Here ya go," he said and released her.

"Umm..." she mumbled. Was it just her, or did the temperature outside become a few degrees higher? "Thank you..."

"Huh?" he bent closer, Candie doing the opposite (he was awfully close). "What was that?"

"Thank you, thank you so much," she enunciated. She was slightly embarrassed but truly grateful.

"Ah." His rosy lips (she became peculiarly aware of the color) curved upward. "You really shouldn't mumble."

"Oh, well, I'm sorry, but I, um, erm - " _Miiiiight as well keep your foot jammed in your mouth for the rest of your life, Candie_, she thought.

"- I mean _you_ shouldn't mumble." He wanted to say more, but he stopped and thought of something, only to dismiss it by shaking his head. "Never mind," he smiled, but it was a watered-down version of the light show from his mouth. "You're very welcome by the way."

The girl chuckled and bit her lip again anxiously - anxiously because this guy seemed to gel with her immediately, but she barely knew a thing about him, hoping that that was the case with him as well and he was just being extraordinarily nice to her. And chivalrous, perhaps. And funny.

"I better get going," Candie let words start to flow in a nervous stream. "I'm on my lunch break and was on my way to the market for sushi, and I'm so glad you pointed out that dollar to me - maybe I'll use it to buy dessert, who knows, but I'm pressed for - _ow!_ "

She swayed and limped on her spontaneously numb ankle.

"Oh no," he gasped. "You can't walk?"

Candie took another step and thought the world would flip her upside-down. "Uh, maybe?" she smiled lamely.

The man laughed heartily. "Come on....lemme help you."

"No, I can - !" she was cut off again by a twinge of pain.

"Can't."

"What?" Candie stared.

He was on the verge of stitches. "Have you always had the habit of falling down?"

"Sort of," she blushed. "I'm not exactly graceful..." Candie checked her ankle. "...or able to walk on two feet without involving and possibly hurting other people."

"Or yourself," he smirked.

Candie laughed. "I don't believe I caught your name, sir."

"Oh, call me -" The man abruptly caught whatever word or name that was about to come out of his mouth. His cheeks puffed up like a squirrel's for a second and made Candie giggle. Finally, he breathed and said, "Arnold."

He gently held her up by the waist and let one of her arms around his shoulders. Candie took a good, long, hard look at Arnold. She'd only met him minutes ago, but the way he supported her along the snowy sidewalk made Candie feel completely safe with this..._interesting_ man.

"And _you_?" he smiled expectantly.

The girl saw her reflection in his enormous shades. "Candie," she confidently replied.

"Candie..." her name rolled off his tongue.

"Exactly - but it's spelled with an _i-e_ instead of a _y_. It's a long story."

The man named Arnold shrugged. "You might as well tell me. We're sort of, uh, _attached _at the hip, if you will."

Candie couldn't stop laughing with this guy. She smiled. "You remind me of an old friend of mine."

Arnold's mouth hung open, and then revealed his pearly whites once again. "Oh really."

"Yeah," Candie sighed, overwhelmed by the sudden nostalgia. "He's a different book entirely."

The man adjusted his shades with his violet thumb. "Well....since I'm here." He turned to face her. "Tell me a story, Candie."

* * *

**A/N:** Where in the world did Arnold come from? Hmm.... XD


End file.
